Patronus
by Darth Gojira
Summary: Neville Longbottom needs only one thing to conjure a Patronus. Harry realizes he's in over his head this time when Hermione proves to be the key. Updated with a new chapter format and the great scent of Brute. There's a sequel on the way, so please review
1. Ghost of a chance

Neville Longbottom shook his head

Neville Longbottom shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harry; it's just not working," he murmured as he watched the silver cloud dissipate.

Harry Potter sighed. It was his idea to revive the DA at the Burrow during the summer after fifth year, but so far few had shown up. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, of course, were the first to come, but only half the others appeared. Katie Bell and Lavender Brown were late, and Angelina Johnson and the Patil sisters showed up soon after they did. Neville, Luna, and Dean Thomas took a few days each to arrive, but come they did. Seamus managed to drag Dennis and Colin Creevey with him, and Ginny had no problem convincing Michael Corner into tagging along.

Still, Cho never came (although truth be told, was not sure whether to be relieved or upset), and he was disappointed how many had been scared away. Fred and George were living above their joke shop in Diagon Alley and so couldn't come until the day after, Ron had told him, but he felt truly let down. His attention was brought to the present when Neville once again attempted to perform a Patronus. New wand or not, he wasn't getting anywhere.

Neville was frustrated. Whenever he tried to project a Patronus, it simply disappeared into mist. He needed something concrete. He looked around; Hermione's otter frolicked around Ron's still-misty dog, while the Patils took on the Creevey brothers in a paired duel. Harry sighed.

"Well, are you sure you can't find any good memories?"

The other boy shook his head.

"Alright, have you tried making something up?"

"It doesn't work. Whenever I try, I start thinking about how I'll never feel it in my life and I get depressed again."

"What would make you happy?" Harry tried in his best Remus Lupin voice. Neville sighed.

"Not being a failure. Having more time with my friends. Passing all my classes. Time at school away from Snape …"

His gaze wandered around the room, seeing if anyone else was doing badly. He had almost gone back to closing his eyes when he caught sight of Hermione. His heart fluttered as it always did when he saw her. She was talking to Ron, a brown eyebrow raised in her typical "I can't believe you can see things that way" look. She had never tried the look on him, however. She had never told him that he was an idiot, or that he needed to stay home for the school year. Instead, she stood by him through all the worst. His mind drifted back through the collection of mental images he had of her: fighting the Death Eaters, dancing with Viktor Krum, nibbling on her quill in that way that always made him flush.

Still, it was nothing to build a Patronus on, and he knew it. She had Ron and Harry; he had concluded long ago that she would never notice him. Sometimes, he would summon up hope, only to see it dashed by his lack of nerve. _Forget nerve,_ he thought. _It's bad luck, too_. Images of their first year flashed through his mind: Hermione rescuing him from Malfoy's Leg-Locker Curse, only to later Body-Bind him on her way to help Harry save the world for the second time. Then he found it: a simple phrase uttered back on the Hogwarts Express. _"Don't worry, Neville, I'll find your toad__.__"_

That day he had first met her. A small glow of hope rose, and he extended his wand one more time.

"Neville, are you sure?" Harry looked at Neville questioningly.

He could only nod.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" he yelled out. The mist seemed thicker and brighter this time, but it would be no match for a dementor boggart, let alone the real thing. He sighed as his latest attempt faded away.

"What did you think of?" Harry raised his black eyebrows.

"When I first made friends at Hogwarts," Neville explained, half-truthfully.

"That was a good day," his friend smiled, but his expression faded into a grim look, "but I don't think it will be powerful enough for a Patronus."

"I knew it," Neville whispered.

"I wish I could help, I really do," Harry murmured apologetically.

"I'll just have to try harder, I guess," Neville said, never believing it for a second.

The session ended, and the students dispersed one by one. Neville sat alone by the fireplace, looking at the flames and trying his hardest not to cry. Occasionally, someone turned to look at him. Parvati looked sympathetic, Michael was busy staring at Ginny, Seamus told him to cheer up.

Luna sighed as she passed. "I'm sorry I can't stay. I'd like to help you, but remember my dad-" she explained apologetically.

"Thanks anyway. Goodbye, Luna." He smiled back at her.

"I wish I could help you." A familiar voice entered his gloomy thoughts. He turned to the speaker. It was Hermione, her long brown frizz reflecting the firelight.

"Hello, Hermione. I don't suppose there's a book on this sort of thing?" he asked her jokingly.

She smiled at him. He knew that the memories of her smiles would not be enough for a Patronus, but they lit up the present world amazingly.

"I don't think so. It's really a psychological thing, I guess. I could see why it's so rare that many wizards don't even try it. Oh, and Ron wanted me to tell you that we got an owl from your gran; she's going to be in Ireland for the next week, so you'll be staying here for a while."

"That's a relief!" He smiled back at her. "I'm starting to like this place. I have friends and family here. I'm starting to feel like I belong."

"I know what you mean," Hermione returned his smile. "Harry told me that he's always felt the same way. I miss my parents, but this is as close as you or Harry can get right now."

_Harry again_, he chided himself. _She talks to him, not you. They're going to end up together and leave you all alone, and you know it_. Tears came up again.

"Are you all right, Neville?" the young witch asked him, observing him closely.

"I can feel so alone sometimes. Harry told me it happens to him all the time, but I've never had what he has," he sighed.

"Don't think like that," she admonished. "You have the respect of every Gryffindor in the house. You have Ron and Harry and, in case you forgot, me. It was the Weasleys' idea to have you here in the first place."

"I'm sorry," he shifted in his seat, not able to tell her how he felt about her.

There was a moment of silence as the two teenagers looked at the ground together.

"I'm just glad you're here with me," Neville finally blurted out. Immediately, his skin paled as he realized what he had said. He froze up, unable to move or think, only waiting for the inevitable "What's that supposed to mean?" that would strike him down dead.

"And I'm glad you're here with me, Neville," she replied, her smile returning.

Not at all what he expected. Not at all. Wasn't she mad? Didn't she realize what he had meant? All he could do was timidly smile back as he turned over his response in his mind. He was not intelligent, he knew that, but he knew her. _She's just being a good friend_, a little voice inside him whispered condescendingly. _And that's enough for me_, he mentally retorted against the cloud of despair.

"Well, it's nearly time for bed, and Ginny's got her room set up. I think you're going to share the guest room with Harry. Goodnight, Neville," she said as she sat up and walked away down the hall.

"Hermione?" he called out. She turned around, curious. "Goodnight," he said simply. She smiled at him again, then continued walking.

Hermione walked around the corner straight into Ginny Weasley.

"Were you listening?" the older girl planted her fists on her hips.

"I can't lie to you on that one," Ginny grinned sheepishly as they walked to her bedroom. "You're not the only one who likes research."

"And what hypothesis do these observations suggest?" Hermione gave her a smirk.

"That Neville Longbottom fancies you, and you're finally taking notice of it," the younger witch said triumphantly, smiling like a shark.

"My hypothesis is that you've spent too much time with Luna and see ulterior motives in everything," Hermione replied with a cluck of her tongue.

"That doesn't stop me from being right. You know, you'd think someone so intelligent wouldn't have to be told when a boy looks at her in a certain way." Ginny's triumphal smile seemed to be plastered on.

"Ginny," Hermione sighed, "I really have no interest in a relationship right now.

Neville is a good friend who needs some sympathy."

"From you," the redhead riposted. "And why you in particular?"

_Damn, _Hermione thought, _why can't I counter that?_

"Would it be alright if I changed my hypothesis in that you have noticed him for a very long time?" Ginny's look of victory was getting under her skin, a characteristic of the Weasleys.

"No, but it would be even better if you considered your hypothesis invalid and dropped the whole thing," she countered as the girls entered Ginny's bedroom.

"You can tell yourself off, but how are you going to tell him?"

_Touché. How did she get so cunning? Must be another Weasley trait; being clever in the times where it was least needed._ Hermione winced at the thought of shooting Neville down before he had even done anything. He didn't deserve that. It was simply the wrong thing to do.

That led back to the question: what to do? She always prided herself on staying single; she thought it better to focus on her few friendships and many academics, the two things that mattered the most to her. Still, she always felt left out whenever Ginny walked out the dorm for a date, or when Parvati and Lavender swapped stories about their boyfriends. True, she'd had Viktor, but he had wanted too much, too soon. She didn't want to be popular, but she couldn't help feel alone when the boys went off to play Quidditch, or when she wanted some quiet relaxation instead of constant complaining about work.

Ron and Harry were like brothers to her, her only real family in the wizarding world. _Ah, I wasn't sure about your stance on incest_, a little voice whispered in her head. "Shut up," she muttered as she changed into her pajamas.

"Pardon?" Ginny poked her head through her nightgown.

"Nothing," Hermione said as she finished buttoning her shift. "Goodnight, Ginny." She hopped into bed, startling a resting Crookshanks. His small yowl woke her out of her thoughts. "Oh, sorry. Goodnight, Crookshanks." The cat merely purred as he slunk away to his corner.

"Good night, Hermione," Ginny added as she tucked into her own bed**.**

As Hermione pulled the covers over her head, she soon realized that she would get little sleep. If she dated Neville, it would be a pity date; the boy deserved more than pity. Pity was only one part of the equation. _And he is losing his baby fat. Notice how tall he's getting?_ The little voice returned. She gritted her teeth.

_He would never keep up,_ she tried rationalizing it to herself. _Are you sure, dear? He's more than a match for you in Herbology, and he's fairly powerful. Remember how you saw him succeed in every test that Harry threw at him?_ The voice grated on. _Except for the __P__atronus. Poor fellow can't find a good enough memory he lacks the confidence. _Hermione sighed at the thought.

_And who always makes him regain his confidence? Who finds his spine and makes a man out of him? _Internal dialogues were something she tried to avoid most of the time, but every once in a while, they ruined her day. She did want him to be happy, after all. _And knowing him, the feeling is mutual__. _Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and drifted to sleep.


	2. Comings and goings

Unfortunately for them, Neville and Harry were new to the recently-overhauled Weasley morning alarm, and both boys ended up tw

Unfortunately for them, Neville and Harry were new to the recently-overhauled Weasley morning alarm, and both boys ended up twitching in fetal positions.

"I should've told you guys about that, sorry", Ron explained, grinning his infectious smile as he surveyed the two whimpering guests. He managed to get both on their feet and conscious enough to change in their clothes.

"Ron, what's happened to Harry and Neville?" Mrs. Weasley called out.

"Hold on, mum. They're not used to the alarm!"

Indeed, Harry and Neville both were still rattled when they arrived at breakfast. Fred and George were already tucking in, having just arrived the last night, while Mr. Weasley was busy talking with the girls.

"I hope our guests slept well," said Mrs. Weasley. Ron just sighed and rolled his eyes at his mother.

Harry muttered, "Well, except for losing an hour of sleep when that bloody alarm woke the living sh-"

"Language, Harry. And I'm sorry about the alarm; I just thought it would be appropriate with what's happening today," she explained.

"Molly," Mr. Weasley peered at his wife, "what exactly _is_ happening today? I thought we agreed on a break for us."

"For us, I'm afraid, Arthur. Not for our guests. I was thinking we would go on that expedition you talked about."

Neville choked on his toast, and Harry and Ron had to vigorously slap his back before he could recover. "What's going on, Ron?" he managed to wheeze out

"Well, the five of us are going to be the only ones left in the house; my parents are going on an anniversary trip to London tomorrow afternoon, Fred and George are going on a business trip-"

"Berlin, baby," grinned George. "Dad says we have to form a link between here and Charlie."

"He's back in Romania?" asked Hermione.

"Yep. He's just finished business with Durmstrang about the use of dragon supplies."

"Maybe he'll meet Krum," Fred piped in, pretending to look innocent. Ron glared daggers at the twins.

"I just hope they manage to form a humane decision," Hermione sniffed, dodging a nasty moment.

Ron rolled his eyes. "As I was saying, Bill and Fleur Delacour are both coming over in a month. They'll get Mum and Dad's room, but Neville and Harry can move out of the spare room into the twins' room."

Harry was not satisfied. "And what's happening today?"

"It's an expedition to this new Ministry station in Exmoor. They're trying to find out more about whether the Muggles are right about some phantom cats there," Mr. Weasley explained. "Everyone's invited. Thought it might do you kids a bit of good, and it'd be something to tell Hagrid about when you return to school."

"We hope that if we find the beast before the Ministry does, we'll get some sort of leverage over them," he lowered his voice, "and they're racing against the Muggles. Harry, Hermione, would either of you know which Department they would use?"

"Ministry of Agriculture," Hermione recalled. "They sent in the Royal Marines seven years back."

Neville's stomach turned over at the thought of yet another strange creature. Hagrid's love of the exotic had nearly killed him the first two years of the class, and he had heard dreadful stories about this beast. He had read that it was a strange magical experiment and was out murdering Animagi as a strange servant of the Dark Lord.

Hermione noticed the teacup trembling in Neville's grasp. "Neville, the beast is most often seen in the pages of the Quibbler. I don't think it's anything more than a Muggle pet," she assured him from across the table. She could not stand to see him panic, especially over silly things like that.

"That's what you thought about Sirius Black," he murmured before realizing his mistake. Harry's eyes began to tear up, and silence descended on the table.

"Just don't worry," Hermione extended her hand across the table to Neville. He smiled at her, knowing that she would be there for him. She smiled back, and the room filled with a glow from Neville's eyes. Ginny smirked and the twins grinned as Harry and Ron looked at each other, concerned.

"As if things needed to be more complicated," Ron said, shaking his head.


	3. Wrong Monster

Naturally, they had to split up at the moor

Naturally, they had to split up at the moor. Naturally, it had to be dark and foggy. Naturally, Harry and Ron were paired off together, leaving Neville with the girls. He could imagine Pansy Parkinson sneering, "Playing with the other girls?" He gritted his teeth. He would show them he wasn't a coward. But first, he had to prove that to himself.

The small circles of light moved on.

"I can't believe Ron wanted Crookshanks to act as a scout!" Hermione said, not hiding the disgust in her voice. "This isn't a game, and Crookshanks is not an acceptable sacrifice! Pets are not pawns in a game of chess, whatever he may think!"

"Should have told Professor Snape that one time he nearly killed Trevor," Neville murmured., thankful that the toad was still at the house, sleeping.

"If I had any power to do so, I'd fire him and quick," she snarled.

"I'd just hex him," Ginny's eyes became dreamy. "Did either of you see my Bat-Bogey Hex yet? All my brothers felt it at least once-"

She was cut off by a gust of wind, freezing her in mid-sentence. The wind seemed to warn them of things even more chilling.

"For being at the opposite end of the country, it sure reminds me of the Forbidden Forest," Neville's said, his eyes widening in fear as he took in the looming forest glowering on the other end of the moor.

"You were lucky. All you had to deal with was Malfoy," reminded Hermione. "Remember what I told you about the centaurs and Grawp?"

"This sounds exactly like the place Hagrid would love" Neville murmured, "Probably find some monster he could tame"

"I wish he was here with us," Ginny whispered. "He wouldn't be afraid."

They stopped cold at an eerie cry, like that of a hippogriff, but deeper and raspier. "Not quite like a griffin," Hermione pursed her lips as she listened carefully.

"I thought griffins only lived in India," Neville asked her anxiously. Ginny sighed, knowing another lecture was coming.

"Not necessarily. They spread as far west as Turkey and as far north as Ukraine during ancient times. Viktor once told me about how there's a feral population in Hungary that occasionally invades Durmstrang. The cry is different than from what I read."

"Oh, you managed to make the pictures speak in Hagrid's book? It sure frustrated me when I tried to identify sounds," Ginny frowned.

"I was too busy trying not to lose my fingers," Neville admitted. Hermione didn't seem to be listening to them, and was frantically signaling to the next group of lights.

The cry rolled over the moor again.

"It can't be the beast," Ginny reasoned. "It's supposed to sound more like a cat or a kneazle from what I read."

Hermione turned back over her shoulder at her friends, "I think we'd better get back to the others."

Suddenly a new sound entered: a cracking of branches underneath pounding feet.

A large, moving shape burst from the tree line, heading towards another group of lights.

"Harry and Ron!" Ginny gasped, before running after the shape. Neville and Hermione followed her closely as they neared the speeding unknown figure. They could see Stunning spells being fired at it, some missing and others striking the beast, causing more screeches.

"_Stupefy_!" Ginny yelled as they approached. The spell hit the shape, illuminating it. Neville caught a glimpse of feathers and spikes.

"A keythong!" Hermione identified it as it roared and turned to regard the new fighters

"A what?!" Neville yelled back, trying to ignore the cold yellow eyes that glowed from the shadow and bore right into him.

She had no time to reply, however, as the creature barreled into them. A swipe of its tail made him backpedal, while it turned to attack Ginny. It stopped when Hermione's _Impedimentia_ caught it right in the chest. Coughing, it swung its claw, scratching her and knocking her to the ground.

"No!" Neville cried out as he blasted the creature in the belly. The beast, about to finish off the young witch, roared and wheeled around. Neville saw a foreleg swipe at him, and he didn't have enough time to dodge it entirely. Something sharp raked his face, and he fell to the ground in pain.

Ginny fired again, and this time Hermione and Neville, weakened and bleeding badly, both joined in. The three spells knocked the keythong on its side, but it continued to try to get up through the barrage. A swipe of its tail knocked down Ginny. Suddenly, two more sources burst in. Ron and Harry had arrived.

Soon the creature was writhing on the ground, swiping blindly. Neville blinked away the blood to see Hermione clutching her left arm, covered in scratches. She was trying to cast a spell, but was struggling to keep upright. "_Stupefy_!_"_ he bellowed as he aimed at the head, but the spell bounced of one of the creature's curved horns. Ron joined in from the other direction, catching the distracted monster right in the eye, and the beast finally collapsed. With a sigh, the wounded wizard fell on his back.

"Hermione! Neville!" Harry cried out upon seeing the two, his eyes watering. Ron gasped at the ghastly wounds that the light revealed.

"Neville, please don't move. There are cuts all over your neck and face," the other boy told him, eyes wide in concern. "Oh, God. Hermione…" His voice died as he surveyed his close friend's wounds.

Footsteps announced the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley screamed at the sight of the blood and the creature.

"What the hell is a keythong doing here?" Mr. Weasley wondered to himself before crouching down to Neville. "We're taking both of you to St. Mungo's," he announced, his face drawn in concern as he stood up to tend to Hermione.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" Neville whimpered through the pain.

"She's been slashed across the arm, and one claw came close to her heart. Oh, Hermione." Ron whimpered.

"Please don't die, Neville." he heard her say. "I can't go on without you," he whispered, partially to himself. He was losing too much blood.

"Please, neither of you die," he heard Harry whisper before blacking out.


	4. Live from St Mungo's

"I don't care about the regulations, girl

"I don't care about the regulations, girl. I want my grandson to have his toad. He's been inspected many times by the Ministry's health officials and has been through more than you have."

"Gran?" Neville woke up to a haze.

"Mrs. Longbottom, he's awake!" he heard Ginny say joyfully. He blinked to see Harry, Ginny, a St. Mungo's Healer, and his grandmother sitting around his bed.

"He's awake, Hermione!" he heard Ron say.

"Thank goodness," she murmured.

Mrs. Longbottom set down Trevor on Neville's lap, sending a wave of comfort through him.

"It's been a long time, Trevor," he smiled at the toad.

Mr. Weasley shook his head, miserable. "I'm sorry about this, Neville. I should have known better than to go on such a dangerous trip."

"I don't blame you for sending him on errands," Mrs. Longbottom assured him. "The boy deserves a proper upbringing, and his parents would want him to be used for such causes. I'm so proud that he took it down."

"Not really," he whispered through a dry mouth. "Ron and Harry saved my life. Again."

"Nonsense, Neville," the aged matriarch sniffed, the vulture on her hat wobbling. "You saved lives that night, and I'm glad you did it. Don't be ashamed for being a hero."

He groaned. Harry and Ron gave him sympathetic looks.

Fortunately, his grandmother was cut off by a simple question from a thin, mustached man who stood at the other bed. "Is he finally awake? I want to thank him."

Neville was puzzled at who this man was until his mental gears finally began to spin. _It's __Hermione's father. _

"Hello, I'm Hermione's dad, Martin Granger. Helen, my wife, couldn't be here today, but I'm just glad to have met you..." he trailed off.

"Neville Longbottom. Pleased to meet you," Neville muttered through his mental haze and extended a hand.

"Mr. Longbottom-" the nurse chided.

"It's his face and neck that got hit, not his arm! And they're nearly healed, too," snapped Gran.

Mr. Granger shook his hand, ignoring the fracas. "Hermione's told me about you a few times. This would be the second time you've helped save her life."

"She's saved me dozens of times," Neville dismissed the compliment.

"Indeed, he's talked about her every time we have a chat about Hogwarts. I'm greatly impressed by your daughter, if Neville's stories are any indication," his grandmother joined in, making him wish he hadn't ducked the fatal swipe.

"Well, it's a real treat to meet her best friends, albeit in a magical hospital. I could spend days here," Mr. Granger got a dreamy look.

"The charm wears off easily, especially when you go here every week," Mrs. Longbottom said darkly. "I'm always here. His parents were tortured into insanity by evil wizards."

Mr. Granger stepped back, shocked. "Hermione's told me stories about them, but I never knew-"

"I didn't want you to be too afraid, Dad," Hermione said weakly from her bed.

"But-"

"Remember how many times I've told you I can take care of myself? I've got friends. Harry's saved me quite a few times, as has Ron. As Mrs. Longbottom said, this is the second time Neville's saved my life, and between me and my friends, I'm safe," Hermione assured her father.

He sighed at his daughter. "I trust you, darling. It's just your mother and I get worried about these sorts of things. I have confidence in you, though."

"That's the kind of attitude I like to see in a witch," said Mrs. Longbottom with a smile. "As long as you're doing the right thing, have no fear."

"I hate to interrupt this communal bonding, but I must tell you about your health, Mr. Longbottom," the nurse interrupted. "You lost a lot of blood, but you're healing very nicely. You should be out within a week, depending on how fast your scars heal. Don't worry, they'll go away in time. In the meantime, you are to take this medication every night. Is that clear?"

"Yes'm. What about her?" he asked, indicating Hermione.

"Ms. Granger will be undergoing the same recuperation and on the same medication. You can therefore talk to her when the both of you feel better. Now, you must rest. Shoo!" she gestured at the others.

"We'll all be back tomorrow. Maybe Fred and George will show up, as I've already owled them," Mr. Weasley assured Neville. "I hope you can forgive me for this mess, Mrs. Longbottom, Mr. Granger..."

"It was a good idea," Neville's grandmother smiled.

"I trust my daughter, Mr. Weasley, and I trust you and your family," Mr. Granger assured him. And with that, the six visitors departed with sad looks back at the patients.

"I'll turn the lights off so that the two of you can rest," the nurse said before leaving.

"Neville?" the boy heard Hermione whisper from the next bed.

"Hm?" he responded, his thoughts drifting.

"That was very brave of you. I knew you could do it."

"I'd do anything to keep you safe," he admitted, too tired to think clearly, too conflicted to be frightened.

"That's very sweet of you. Goodnight, Neville."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

As he fell asleep, Neville hoped his dreams would be better this night.


	5. Out of the Closet

The week went by quickly

The week went by quickly. Hermione didn't really care about the scars, but the nurse had insisted that she wait until they were healed. Her mother needed several talks to be calmed down, but it was hard to feel sorry for herself when Neville's grandmother kept embarrassing him.

The postbox in the Burrow swelled with letters as people heard the news of the accident. Luna even sent Hermione and Neville copies of the _Quibbler_ with the report:

_Heroes of Hogwarts encounter Keythong in Exmoor - Granger and Longbottom injured in battle. _

The other DA members quickly responded. Hermione couldn't help feel odd when the Patils sent Neville a pressed bouquet of flowers. Then again, Viktor sent her a bottle of Bulgarian _rakia_ with a healing charm on the bottle cap. She promised her father only to drink a little of it.

They never did find out what a keythong was doing in Exmoor that night. Keythongs, which were a variant of flightless griffin that had spines and horns in lieu of wings and a bad attitude that made the other griffin types look positively sociable, were supposed to be only found in the most remote areas of the Caucasus Mountains. Maybe it was connected to the beast of the moor, maybe something else. She shivered at the possibilities before shutting them away.

She felt conflicted, to be sure. That annoying little voice just kept talking about how deserving Neville was of a better life and how alone she felt. She had tried to reason away all those anxious feelings, but she simply could not silence them. When they finally were both well enough to leave, she tried not to feel happy when it turned out that neither her father nor Neville's grandmother would cancel their summer plans. She failed.

This was matched, however, by the Weasleys' departure, leaving the house to the care of herself and her friends. It was at the breakfast table that Ron of all people brought it up.

"It's not like we're helpless here, but we're terribly disorganized."

"So you're finally admitting your culpability?" Hermione grinned at him.

"More pancakes?" Harry shoved the still-hot frying pan at his charges. Not wanting an argument while Harry had an iron cooking implement in hand, Neville managed to dodge it this time. He still had the burns from the last times.

"Harry, how is the guest room?" Ginny asked him.

"It's fine," he said, dismissing the problem with a smile.

"There was another boggart in the wardrobe, you know," Neville reminded him. "I'm just glad it never comes out when you're around."

Harry grimaced, then a mental light bulb finally lit up. "Neville, let's go in and take that boggart!"

Neville dropped his fork, and Hermione looked skeptical.

"Remember third year? Defense against the Dark Arts with Lupin? While I'm sure you can handle his fear-"

"Just because you can handle Snape doesn't mean everyone can," Ron interrupted.

"Did I say I enjoyed having to deal with that git by myself?" Harry countered.

"-but I don't think a dementor is going to help him when he's just out of the hospital," Hermione finished over the boys' argument.

Neville screwed up his thoughts and stiffened his upper lip the way Gran always told him to. "I'll do it," he announced quietly.

"Neville, are you sure about this?" Ginny's concern was palpable.

"If things get too bad, I've got Harry to save me. Again," he tried to sound reassuring.

Ron sighed as the two other boys left the table. It was his turn to clean up, but Ron couldn't help but watch them go in concern. "It's official. They're both mental," he muttered.

"This is not good," Hermione said, shaking her head. Harry and Neville were a formidable team, she knew, but Harry's obsession with training and revenge was becoming very similar to that of Mad-Eye Moody.

The others followed Harry and Neville at a distance. Sure enough, it was Harry that opened up the wardrobe. Sure enough, the boggart loomed out in the form of a dementor. There it hovered a few inches off the ground, its heavy cloak masking the light. The boys paled, but they stood firm. It examined Harry, who by sheer force of will, managed to withstand it.

Neville saw Harry growing weak, and whipped out his wand. "_Expecto __P__atronum_!" he fired the spell at the faux-dementor, remembering Hermione's thanks. It only formed a vague cloud that the boggart, breaking character, curiously touched. The "dementor" hovered, puzzled until the bright cloud disappeared a minute later.

"_Riddi__k__ulus_!" he heard Harry cast. Worse still.

Neville saw the boggart stagger, trip over its own cloak, stumble sideways and transform itself into the form of Professor Snape. The likeness was, as always, unmistakable. Same chilling sneer, same glower, same air of total hate. Neville choked and closed his eyes. He knew that Harry was watching, and that it would be hard to think straight. _He can always see right through me_, he reminded himself, _he's always there, reminding me what a failure I am, and will always be_.

Finally, he had it. The hat. That absolutely wonderful image that had saved him the last time. "_Riddi__k__ulus_!" he said with a slight smile on his lips, the image filling his mind. The pseudo-Snape gained his gran's hat, vulture and all. Everyone in the room laughed. It reeled in agony and the hat slipped over its eyes.

"_Riddi__k__ulus_!" Neville giggled. With a loud pop, the boggart burst into immaterial fragments. A mass sigh of relief passed through the room.

Harry's shoulders slumped. "So it didn't go all wrong," he sighed.

"Still nothing," Neville murmured, shaking his head. Harry looked at the ground, lost in thought.

"What about wishes? Don't they cause a Patronus?" Ginny asked from the doorway.

"Neville, what do you wish for?" Ron asked him.

Neville swallowed. "My parents getting better, passing the exams, seeing Bellatrix Lestrange in Azkaban, and…oh God." He lowered his voice to a whisper as he turned to Harry. "Could we finish this in private?"

"Um…sure," Harry was unsure on what he was going to say, and part of him was afraid to find out.

"Could you all leave the room?" he asked the others. Taken by surprise, they filed out. Neither Harry nor Neville noticed Ginny and Ron pulling out the Extendable Ears that they had saved from the last year as they left the room.

"Promise you won't laugh? Or say anything?" Neville asked.

Harry pursed his lips. "Okay. Let's get it over with"

"Kissing Hermione," the other boy blurted out.

"Hermione?" Harry's eyes bugged out. Neville nodded. "Hermione Granger?" Nod. "Our Hermione? The one that's standing outside?" Nod nod nod. Harry's jaw dropped.

"I think I may be in love with her," Neville mumbled.

"Neville, this is between you and her, you'll have to-" Harry stumbled over his words.

"I know what I have to do. That's why I've never mentioned it to her so far. She'd just laugh at me, and then give me a lecture." Neville's upper lip trembled as tears began to form.

"I can't believe it. Bloody hell!" Harry cursed.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed from outside the door, turning to look at his sister.

"I was right!" Ginny raised a fist in triumph.

"Jesus Christ", Ron swore one more time before stumbling backwards into a chair. Hermione poked her head out of Ginny's room.

"Ron? What happened?" she asked, concerned.

"Bloody hell. Holy shit," he simply cursed as he stared at the ceiling.

"I respect Neville too much to tell you now," Ginny admitted with a grin, "but let's just say I have the decisive evidence."

The door opened, revealing Neville looking at the ground with a furious blush and Harry shaking his head in disbelief.

"I missed something. What happened?" Hermione crossed her arms, aggravated at being left out. Neville only looked up for a second before turning crimson and looking down again.

"Something bizarre. Something bloody bizarre," Harry said. His eyes were still blank and staring straight ahead. "Holy shit."

"My," Hermione's sarcasm sliced into the awkward silence, "how descriptive. Apparently it was something worth an obscenity, like a cricket under the bed or your breakfast burning. Did you try a Confundus Charm on our friends, Neville?"

Neville refused to look up. "I'm not sure you would understand." His round face turned redder.

"Fine! You boys are impossible," Hermione huffed as she walked out of the room, frustrated.

Neville Longbottom cried that night. He had trained himself to keep his feeling buried deep down, but whenever the nerves hit his parents or friends, he could explode. This time it was sheer despair. _They don't believe you. They never will. Best forget about it if you want to keep your friends_, the annoying little voice said smugly. _I can't forget about it. I can't keep it down. I love her_. A new voice joined the fray, sounding in the same tones that Dumbledore used. _Tell her, then. You can't run; you must face it head-on. Forget what your friends would say. Remember who you are and what you are capable of!_

"Neville?" A real-life voice mercifully broke the conflict. It was Harry. "I'm sorry about how I reacted. I don't know what I can do," he spoke softly. "Do you want me to talk to her?"

"No," Neville said with uncharacteristic firmness. "This is my problem, Harry. It's just that I don't know how to tell her."

"Well, I'm in your corner, mate," Harry said simply.

Neville smiled at him. "Thanks for that."


	6. A Romantic Showdown

Logic was Hermione's favorite tool, and she put it to the test again

Logic was Hermione's favorite tool, and she put it to the test again. Unfortunately, it tended to be used when it was least convenient, and her relentless curiosity bore down her defenses. What was it that Neville wanted? _And why are you so concerned?_ The little voice teased. _He's my friend. I'd do the same for Ron or Harry!_ She tried to counter the accusations.

Time to review the evidence: it was something Neville wanted, something Ginny was glad about, and something Ron was shocked about. Revenge? But why would Ginny be so pleased about it? Coming out of the closet about something? Again, Ginny would be just as shocked as Ron. Besides, it would have to be happy enough to cause a Patronus.

Maybe, she feared, it was related to her. That's why Ginny wouldn't tell. That's why Neville was so shy about it. That's why Ron nearly had a heart attack. Maybe Ginny was right; he did fancy her. This lead to the inevitable question: what would she do?

On one hand, she was frightened and unsure. Would he be another Viktor, who didn't understand her despite his true affection? On the other hand, she was happy. A boy truly loved her. Not only that, but it was a steadfast companion, pupil, and friend, someone whom she had trusted for years. This was not like Viktor, who had appeared out of the blue for only a little while. This wasn't Harry or Ron, who had become brothers to her. Did she love him?

His gentle smile, his strong shoulders, his quiet dignity even at his worst moments….there was something there. More importantly, he loved her, and that made all the difference in the world. Did Viktor still carry a torch for her? His letters became more formal as time went on, to be sure. That made things easier for her; he was sure to be happy about this. It was time to put last year finally out of commission and resign herself to her destiny.

Enough was enough. Hermione steeled herself and stepped out the door.

"Where's Neville?" she asked Ron, who was defeating Harry for the three thousandth time in chess.

"He's outside, in the garden," explained Harry.

"He said he needed to do something for Mum while she's gone. Good move, Harry, but it won't save you this time," added Ron.

As she left the room, Harry leaned over to his best friend. "Do you think she knows? What's going to happen to him?"

"I feel sorry for the poor bloke. It's not really his fault," Ron said, shaking his head sadly.

"I'm glad this is happening. I think it's going to work out fine," asserted Ginny, walking into the room.

"I wish I could see what you see," Harry shook his head.

"Good thing you can't. You're not that mad," Ron quipped.

In the garden, Hermione could not help but admire Neville's diligence and toil as he moved from one plant to another, the careful way he inspected, watered, and lovingly patted down the soil. He was soaked with sweat, and she could see his tense back muscles flexing furiously as he dug up another bush and tenderly placed it in a nearby pot. _I never thought he could be so gentle,_ she thought to herself, fascinated by his diligence.

"Wow, Neville, I'm sure Mrs. Weasley will appreciate this when she gets back. You're doing a great job," Hermione said, breaking the silence.

"Oh, hello, Hermione." Neville did not turn around. "It's a way to make myself useful. I like doing nice things for people, and it's even better when I'm doing something I know I'm good at. I don't like it when I feel like dead weight."

"You're never dead weight," she said, rolling her eyes at his stubborn self-degradation.

"So you tell me." He inspected the plant and adjusted the soil with his spade.

"Would I lie to you?" she asked him. He shook his head.

"Neville? Could you tell me what was that one thing that would help you conjure a Patronus? It can't possibly be that important that you need to be so secret about it. You can trust me," Hermione insisted.

Neville sighed as he turned around. "You'll just yell at me if I told you. It's not important."

"If it's something that means that much to you, then it is important and my business," she snapped. "You're getting as bad as Harry, being so secretive and anti-social that-"

"Fine!" Neville groaned with the air of a dying man, defeated at last. "I love you, alright? And not only that, but I've been in love with you for the past three years." His sudden admission caused a red flush on both of their faces. He swiftly turned back to his plants.

Hermione was in a state of shock. "You do? You're not pulling my leg?"

"Would I lie to you?" he responded quickly as he quietly dug a new hole for the bush.

Hermione was a woman of words, not action. Only a few times was she prompted to take desperate action. She strode over to him, grasped his shoulders firmly and turned him around. The kiss that followed blew her away. Viktor was a decent kisser, and she remembered it well, but this had more power, more intimacy, more urgency. It had heart and soul in it, something that took both by total surprise.

Neville could hardly believe this was happening. One moment he was absorbed in his work, the next he was passionately kissing the girl of his dreams. Best of all, it was her that kissed him. After a pause, he hungrily took more of her in, widening his mouth and reaching around her, stroking her back through her shirt. His hands were dirty and rough, but they touched with the greatest of care. Hermione sighed into his mouth and became more active in her kiss, her courage rising to meet his.

Hermione sucked hard on his mouth and tentatively moved her tongue into it. He moaned and sucked on it, tangling it with his own. Her hands moved around to hang around his neck, fingers massaging the back. This was wonderful. This was unbelievable. This was the last thing she expected to be doing. Best of all, he was good for a beginner. Viktor had shown her how, being experienced, and it was only fair that she pass on the favor. She never thought it would be so good, so much better than the first or any she had imagined.

_Screw Viktor. This one's a keeper,_ the little voice announced. For once, Hermione didn't care. She sank into his warm embrace. "I guess I love you too," she admitted.

His embrace tightened, so warm and soft and firm. Neville stroked her hair, relishing the feel of her soft, dark mane under his fingers. She rested her head on his shoulder. "Feel better?"

"I feel wonderful, but…are you alright with this? Do you really feel that way?" he asked her, sounding concerned.

"I can't just let you go on like this with anything in return. You deserve it." Hermione kissed him on the cheek. "I love you."

Ginny had stepped in a few seconds previous and could barely prevent a squeal of triumph. Only quick thinking on her part managed to _Silencio_ Ron when he showed up. He was still mouthing obscenities and staggering like a drunken man, eyes bugged out in surprise. Harry cautiously poked his head around the door, only to have Ginny clamp her hand over his mouth.

"Jesus Christ," he whispered. Ron had recovered enough to make frantic, indecipherable hand gestures to Harry, who shook his head, not understanding anything that was happening.

"I'm going back to bed," Harry muttered, looking pale as a sheet as he staggered back into the house. "I need to lie down before I pass out."

Ron could only open and close his mouth in a nonsensical fashion. Ginny gave them one last grin before dragging her brother back into the house. She loved being right.

When they finally came back inside the house, arm in arm, Hermione called out. "Harry! I think it's time we give Neville another chance for a Patronus!"

Harry rubbed his eyes before putting on his glasses, disturbed from his nap. _What the hell. Why not?_ He yawned before finally saying, "Go for it."

Ron and Ginny also heard this and quickly entered the room, the former with all the blood drained out of his face, the latter still glowing.

Neville took a deep breath, and conjured up his happiest memory of his entire life, courtesy of Hermione. "_Expecto Patronum_!" he yelled. Out came the silver mist, thicker and brighter than ever before. This time it didn't dissipate, but congealed into a large form. There was a new, bright glow as the spectral figure reared up on its hind legs before coming down with a triumphant bray.

"A donkey?" Neville looked shocked at the long-eared Patronus trotting around the room.

"They're not always associated with stupidity, you know," Hermione assured him. "In the book _Animal Farm,_ it's the donkey that knows better than all the other animals."

"When did you read that?" Ron grinned.

"Summer after third year. Good book, excellent critique on the Muggle socialist situation in Russia seventy years ago," she said smugly.

"And at least the girls won't squeal about how cute it is," Ron pointed out, "and don't pretend either of you weren't part of that." He shot a look at Hermione accusatorily.

"I did not squeal," she sniffed. "I merely pointed out it was adorable."

"In baby talk," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "You're the only person who'd cuddle their own Patronus."

"If mine was cuddly, I would have done it," Ginny stepped in.

They were too busy arguing to notice that Neville had turned away and was looking out the window. "Thinking about your dad, too?" asked Harry from behind him.

"Yeah. Makes me wonder what he had as a Patronus. Gran will feel good about this, but I'm afraid to tell her about-"

"Neville, we all saw what happened, and we're all happy for you," he assured him.

Ron sidled up to them. "Promise us you'll do your best for her, and take care of her," he insisted. "She's important to us, too."

"I always do, and I always will. She always comes first," Neville assured them.

"Ginny, you were right." Hermione looked at the ground, blushing. "I shouldn't have tried to hide from it."

"I'm glad it's working out so far. I've been rooting for the two of you since my third year," Ginny smiled. "Now it's all settled and everyone's happy."

Hermione wasn't so sure.

"I hope this doesn't affect my grades," she worriedly said to herself.

Ginny put her small hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, you'll always be the best. Maybe you two could work together more often."

She liked the idea. A lot. Already she saw the possibilities. The ones involving getting too distracted stopped her train of thought completely. How could she work while spending time with him?

"Um, Hermione?" A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. It was Neville.

"I hope this won't cause problems for your work. I'll try to work harder and try not to distract you. I mean, I don't want to ruin your schedule or anything."

"Thank you, Neville. I'll see about the free time. In the meantime, we haven't even received the reading lists yet-"

"Thank goodness," Ron muttered.

"-so I can wait a little. Maybe we should start doing things as a group," Hermione continued. Ron and Neville already took defensive positions, while Harry and Ginny looked as if though they heard a Messerschmitt roar overhead. "Like a party or something, where all of us can relax."

"That immediately crosses off any trips anywhere outside the Burrow, and some things we can do here. Thank you," Ron grinned.

"Maybe we could rent some films?" Harry suggested. _Oops, bad idea, _he thought. They all looked at him.

"You're experienced with Muggle cinema," Ginny pointed out.

"And you've got a big enough budget for it," Neville joined in.

Ron shook his head with a smile, "Sorry, mate. You're in the thick of this one. Again."

"I guess I'll help with the VCR," Hermione volunteered, "but it could take a while."

Harry groaned.

The End.


End file.
